


The Hunt

by Njaybird



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: F/M, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Njaybird/pseuds/Njaybird
Summary: Set after Matthew and Diana’s first yoga class together in the book, before Matthew runs away to Scotland. Just a smutty one-shot imagining what he’s feeling and thinking (and doing!) before he decides to go hunting with Hamish.





	The Hunt

I steered the Jaguar into my parking space at All Souls and switched off the ignition before relaxing back into the cool leather seat. Her scent was still everywhere, engulfing me, driving me mad. Only Amira’s soothing presence and decades of disciplined practice had prevented an embarrassing erection in class, but now that I was alone, and my desire for Diana had full rein, even my loose-fitting yoga clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable. Why couldn’t I shake this witch from my mind? 

I glanced across to the passenger seat, where she had been sitting only moments before. A bundle of fabric on the floor caught my attention: her cardigan. I sighed in relief—this was why her scent was still so strong, why I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was still here, in a way. I lifted the garment, intending to fold it up and return it to her the next day in the library. But before I knew what I was doing, I’d buried my face in the soft wool. I was drowning in her now, honey and sunlight and something unnameable—something uniquely her—assaulted my senses and demanded my attention. 

Like a flash, I dropped the jumper and sped out of the car. I needed distance, I needed time to think. When I reached my rooms, I paused in the doorway, resting my head against the frame. How could I have let things get this far? 

“Alright, Professor?” A cheery voice behind me startled me out of my reverie. I turned to see one of the younger fellows, an overly confident and freshly-minted anthropologist in his mid-twenties. Fleetingly, I considered that it had been a long time since I’d fed, and this boy might make a good distraction. Hunger and desire are closely linked, after all. I gave him my dangerous smile, the one that instantly charmed most warm bloods. 

_But not her,_ said a quiet voice in my head. I sighed, any notion of feeding on the young man in front of me suddenly distasteful. I knew who I really wanted. 

“Yes, fine, Dr. Crawley. Good night.”

The look on his face as I stepped inside and shut the door told me he’d been hoping for more of a conversation. A pity — it would’ve been so easy to drink from him and then make him forget. 

I leaned against the closed door and ran my hands through my hair. Fuck. I needed to get away from her scent—I couldn’t think straight with her still clinging to me like this. 

A shower would help, I decided. I raced to the bathroom, started the hot water, and shed my clothes. My cock stared angrily up at me, rock hard and weeping. I resolved to ignore him, to focus on washing Diana away instead. I couldn’t risk setting a precedent, or getting too used to her name on my lips. Thus resolved, I stepped under the spray. 

I knew immediately that the shower had been a terrible idea. Vampires are prone to sensory overload: we hear, see, taste, smell, and feel several degrees more of the world than humans do. The input of thousands of tiny beads of scalding water all over my cold, already overstimulated body was almost sexual in and of itself. I groaned, leaning back to rest my head against the tile. This was no better — the rivulets of water now had a direct path to the place where my nerves were already on fire, trailing down my sloped body the way that her fingers might if she— 

No. Such thoughts were dangerous. 

Wash. I fumbled for the soap and tried to quiet my mind, to return to the meditative state I’d found in Amira’s class. I was making some progress when, unbidden, the memory of Diana’s face watching me in shavsana floated into view. Her clear, bright, enigmatic eyes had peered at me with something like admiration, and I’d never felt more lost—or more seen—than in that moment. 

With a growl, I gave in. How much temptation could one man possibly be expected to stand? I let the soap fall, braced myself against the shower wall with one hand, and wrapped the other around my throbbing length. I felt some relief immediately, the simple act of touching myself an admission of defeat and a kind of exhale. As I began to move my hand, I imagined what it would be like with her hand — or, even better, her mouth. Oh God that mouth, wrapped tight around me with her bright, summer sky eyes blinking up at me — 

I cried out, tugging harder and faster. My free hand twined in the hair at the nape of my neck. I pulled, hard. Fuck. Yes. _More_. 

I was close already, so close, just imagining her here with me — soaking wet, skin sliding against mine. She’s so alive, the way she blushes when she senses me looking at her, the warmth of her skin, the pulse in her veins — 

I hardly dared to think of what it would feel like to push inside her at last—hot, tight, wet, and all for me. I’d start with fingers, slowly, slowly opening her up. I’d have given a king’s ransom to hear her moan my name as I found the secret places that made her tremble with pleasure. 

Fuck, _yes_ — I bit my lip, desperate to keep my orgasm at bay just a moment longer, just long enough to savour the image of her face, eyes fluttering closed, mouth open and forming my name—my name— as she felt my cock slide inside her for the first time. 

With that thought, I could hold back no longer. I let out a strangled cry and spilled over the edge of bliss. For a few moments, I was at peace, braced against the shower wall, the water still tumbling against my back. 

Once I stopped the spray and dried off, however, I knew two things with absolute certainty: first, that I needed to get far, far away from Diana Bishop and, second, that I needed to feed as soon as possible. I picked up the phone and dialed. My friend answered on the second ring. 

“Matt? It’s nearly midnight, what’s wrong?” 

“Sorry to bother you, Hamish. Are you using your monstrosity of a lodge this weekend? I need to hunt.” 


End file.
